“You know what they say about a man with his trousers around his ankles?” I whisper.
“What?” he asks, groping himself and tugging.
I spin, kicking his feet out from under him. He goes down with a yelp, and I’m on him, hauling him to his knees, to his feet.
“All of his thinking power has ventured south.” I haul the Mouse back against my chest, digging the knife blade into his throat.
“Don’t move,” I whisper in his ear. “Don’t make a sound. Don’t make me cut your throat.”
A splash of liquid splashes against the floor.By all the thorns of Malus, he’s pissed himself again.
Growling under my breath, I slam the hilt of the dagger into his temple. His weight sags against me and I haul him further into my cell, stained shirt and all.
“I’m glad I wasn’t the only one who fell for that,” Bael growls as I dump the Mouse in the corner and kick him in the ribs to make sure he’s well and truly unconscious. “You are dangerous.”
“I’mdangerous?” I arch a brow at him as I rifle carefully through the Mouse’s pockets, finding another set of keys that might come in handy. Ripping his belt loose of his trousers, I bind his arms behind his back.
Bael slowly smiles. “Consider me intrigued.”
Then his smile slips as I move toward the door.
“Wait. Where are you going?”
Flicking my braid off my shoulder, I grace him with a winsome smile. “I have plans, you know. Rescue the girl. Kill the wicked prince. Burn the manor.”
Bael wraps his hands around the bars, staring at me intensely. “Unlock my cell. I can help you get out of here. There will be more guards than you can handle alone.”
“I’m not a fool. I don’t intend to fight my way out of here.”
Still…
I eye every dangerous inch of him. Men like him aren’t to be trusted. He might have spoken up for me the night before, and he’s seemed more amused with me than anything else, but he still joined this hunt.
He’s only here for one reason.
And that reason means I can’t trust him.
I toss the keys into my cell, not quite close enough for him to reach though. Then I bow with a flourish, “Looks like you’ll have to hold off on that spanking. May the Laughing God favor you.”
And then I bolt up the stairs, determined to find Kari and get as far away from the Fleshmonger and his crew as I can.
Laughter echoes through the upstairs rooms, as well as sensual music.
I managed to locate a diaphanous gown that drapes over my figure, and a tray with a handful of tankards upon it. My thick dark hair tumbles down my back in loose curls, and I’ve even found a glittering gold mask. The second I slipped it on, I became invisible.
Not a single one of Rhykus’ men glances at me twice as I offer them drink, managing to get a good layout of the manor’s auction rooms. Broken Nose scowls at his empty tankard over two bruised eyes, but he has no idea the cause of them is right in front of him.
There’s too much happening around him to pay attention to me. Guests flood the room, an odd array of rich noblemen and well-clothed merchants. The bidders, I guess.
And they’re clearly not competing in the games themselves.
Somehow, Rhykus has managed to create an operation that hunts down prospective brides and auctions them off to outside influences.
Someone is skirting Kasaros’ rules.
I wonder what the God thinks of that?
The girls to be auctioned are being held upstairs in small rooms off a hallway. Two guards are stationed there, according to one of the serving girls. One at the locked door leading to the hallway. One inside it.
